#tagminibang2023

[chenria]

I can finally share my TAG Mini Bang illustration of Virgil. It goes with a small ficlet by @louthestarspeaker - it's just a small scene, but when I read it, it instantly gave me the idea for this picture. So I just had to illustrate it.

And I hope I did Virgil and the small fic justice.

[alexthefly]

Snakes on a Thunderbird

For @godsliltippy for TAG MiniBang 2023 (@tagminibang)

Inspired by this adorable piece of Fishtank art here. (@tippystreasurebox)

Trigger warning for snakes. Also brief mention of animal neglect, plus some minor whump and peril.

As Virgil went through his post-flight checks, Gordon twisted and revelled in the several satisfying pops his back made. 

“Oh god, that is so much better! Want me to crack yours for ya, Virg?”

There was a grumble of disapproval from his right. 

“I’ll pass thanks. Hearing yours was an experience in itself. In fact…” 

His brother reached over and snagged the small metal box Gordon had been carrying on his lap. 

“...perhaps I’d better take that before you do yourself any more damage.”

Gordon rolled his eyes and snatched the box back with perhaps just a little too much snap.

“Right Virgil(!) ‘Cos hauling passengers and crates off of a sinking ship was fine, but this last hundred yards to the rescue centre is where things gets really tricky(!)”

The rescue hadn’t really been all that bad physically. The crates in question had been lighter than expected, though that was because apparently properly feeding the various animals inside had clearly not been much of a priority for the smugglers on board; about as high as safety and ship maintenance had been. And although Gordon’s back was definitely starting to twinge a bit now, he’d have been a lot happier to be a lot achier if it meant those poor creatures had been treated right.

Well, whatever. He’d stayed professional. …Mostly. That Johnny hadn’t mentioned his little brother's prolonged blue streak ricocheting over the comms was likely a sign that he’d felt the same way.

The fact the GDF were already briefed and waiting with an arrest warrant the second they’d touched down was probably another one.

A yellow light broke through his thoughts and dragged him back to the present. He batted the medi-scan away with a grunt.

“Would you quit it, Virg? I’m fine.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Gordon opened his mouth, ready to deliver a witty yet devastating retort, but then thought wiser of it. Better to just let the big guy get it all out of his system. He'd only worry otherwise, and a worried Virgil was a pain in the backside, especially with the flight home and debrief to get through. He closed his mouth and submitted to the inevitable with a huff.

Virgil for his part stayed quiet too as he completed the scan; once it was done, he continued to look Gordon over with the practised eye of both a medic and a big brother.

“Well, Doctor Virgil? Are you done? Can we go now?”

Another moment of scrutiny. Then: 

“You know today was a good day, right?”

Dammit. The big green angst-detector strikes again.

Gordon really didn’t want to talk about it now.

“Whatever you say, bro.”

“I mean it,” Virgil insisted. “You’ve said it yourself - this shelter is the best. They've got the facilities and the expertise; they’ll take good care of all these guys, big and small. And the GDF will make sure the people that did this get what's coming to them."

“Uh-huh.”

"Gordy, the good guys won. Take the win.”

Honestly it didn’t feel like a win. Not even a tiny one. The memory of all those sad little eyes was too raw. It was going to take a lot for it to fade into the background, and he just didn't have the energy right now. All he wanted was to get everything unloaded, go home, swim ‘til he couldn't think anymore and then crawl into bed and sleep for 12 hours.

"Virg, could we please do the pep talk another time? The shelter staff are waiting for us."

A little frown appeared on his brother's brow, but he sighed and nodded.

"Are they all okay in there?” Virgil asked instead, nodding at the box balancing on Gordon’s dashboard. 

It was an obvious change of subject, but a welcome one. Gordon gave the portable incubator a protective little pat.

“Should be. I candled them earlier and they look good. Not pipped yet, but I think it should be soon.”

He blinked as a sudden thought occurred.

“Actually," he said as he opened the incubator lid and retrieved the covered tray inside, "I’m just gonna check they’ve not been turned mid-flight. I’ve been holding them steady the whole way over, but you never know.”

“I thought you were supposed to turn eggs?” said Virgil with a hint of confusion. He leaned across to watch what Gordon was doing. "Grandpa said it stopped the embryo getting stuck."

“That’s for birds. Snakes are different. All the little veins and stuff are fragile; you flip the egg, the umbilical cord tears away and they die.” 

Gordon gingerly lifted the lid and peered inside. 

"Of course, these guys are almost ready to hatch so I don’t know how much of that appli-”

But the rest of his thought died on his tongue as he lifted the lid and took a look inside.

A beat.

“What?”

“Erm, not sure. Hang on a sec…” Gordon gently slid the eggs to one side of the tray and running his gloved hands very carefully in the sandy substrate below.

"Where are you?" he muttered softly.

"Where's what?" Virgil quickly jumped to his feet, unease radiating from every pore.

"One of the eggs must have hatched in transit," explained Gordon, still rifling through the soft gravel, looking for any flash of movement. "Once the shell breaks they usually take a few hours to come out, but I guess with all the jiggling…"

"Okay, so presumably there should be a snake in there then. Where’s the snake, Gordon?!"

Gordon kept digging, slightly more urgently. 

"Some snakes bury themselves down into the substrate after hatching - it’s a kinda protection thing. They wait there for their first shed, then they come out looking for food."

Virgil reached out gingerly over Gordon's shoulder and picked up the soft and clearly empty egg shell, complete with a neat split down the middle. He held it softly in his hands, turning it over and over as if he might find the wayward snake still clinging to it somewhere.

"Exactly what sort of snakes are these, Gordy?" he asked slowly, deliberately.

"Umm…”

“Gordon!”

“I don’t know! I’m not a snake expert, and you can only tell so much from just the eggshell anyway.” 

He set the tray onto the dashboard and started checking inside the incubator itself, just in case. He could feel heat starting to rise across his cheeks.

“Gords, could it be… poisonous?”

Gordon swallowed back the sour taste in his mouth.

“I don’t know.”

There was a moment of horrible silence as those words sunk in. Of course, the chances of the snake being venomous were slim - only about 10-15% of known species were after all - and in any event their uniforms were designed to withstand pretty much anything, but there was still that tiny sliver of doubt in his mind. Was Brains far-sighted enough to have considered snake fangs as a variable during the testing phase?

Virgil took a step back, eyes darting everywhere, and tapped his wrist controller. 

“I’m not picking anything up. John? Any chance you could run a sweep of the cockpit for… uh… unusual heat signatures?”

“Unusual?” 

John’s projected image leapt out of the dashboard holo’ right in front of Gordon’s face, causing him to almost fall off his chair. 

“What sort of unusual?”

Virgil cleared his throat in a far-too-obviously guilty way. 

“We’ve kind of… misplaced something.”

“O-kaaay… What sort of something?”

Gordon opened his mouth to say… Actually he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but in any case Virgil got there first.

“Can you just do it please, John?” he asked, brow furrowed. "Now?"

The look John shot them both could have stripped paint, but he turned away and started swiping.

“No unusual readings found,” he said after a few seconds. "Perhaps if I knew what I was looking for…”

Gordon caught Virgil’s eye. Despite his obvious concern about the situation, the big chonk was clearly still trying to cover for him. 

He really was the softest marshmallow.

But as touched as he was, right now the most important thing wasn't avoiding blame; it was finding the snake before anyone got hurt, including the creature itself. There would be time to wriggle out of Scott and John’s inevitable lecture later.

“The signal’s likely very subtle,” he said, drawing John's attention. “He’s cold-blooded, so his core temperature’s gonna be mirroring the immediate environment. Look at components a little below body temperature and check for tiny, unexplained fluctuations.”

“Cold-bl… You lost a reptile?!”

“A snake,” clarified Virgil.

There was a moment while John processed this new information, then he closed his eyes and pinched the top of his nose. 

“Of course it's a snake(!)” He sighed. “EOS? Did you catch all that?”

EOS’s voice rang through clear over the comms. “Yes, John. Checking now…”

“In the meantime,” said John, “I suggest you put your helmets back on, just to be safe. The less exposed skin you two have the better.”

The brothers nodded. 

Gordon set the incubator down and grabbed his helmet from the dash in front of him, just as EOS brought up a schematic of the cockpit onto the screen in front of him.

“There’s a slight irregularity in temperature around the co-pilot’s control panel, but it’s too indistinct to pin down to a specific component.”

Gordon’s eyes darted all over the dashboard in front of him. 

Where?

Scrabbling to push his chair back and get his helmet on, he vaguely heard Virgil say something about lifting the main cover off the console before he was suddenly distracted by a sharp, stabbing pain in his right cheek, just above the jaw.

“Yeow!”

Virgil was by his side immediately, mediscanner in hand. “What?! What is it?”

Gordon remained in his chair, sitting stock still.

"Don’ scan.”

"What?"

"Don' scan. Th' noise'll scare 'im."

Virgil's eyes went wide.

"Where is it?" he whispered, looking him up and down.

“I’z on m’ face."

“What?!?”

“On. M’. Face. W’z inside th’ helmet.”

Virgil and John exchanged a panicked look.

��Yep.

By rights, Gordon should have been scared. After all, there was a chance he could die here; the little danger-noodle might be pumping deadly venom into him by the second. But surprisingly he wasn’t overly worried about that possibility just now. In fact he felt strangely calm and clear-headed. What was done was done after all, and the priority now was to a) not do anything to make the snake strike again (him or Virgil); and b) get it secured.

“Ah’m gonna slowly r’move th’ helmet," he mumbled, trying not to move his mouth too much. "When y’ see ‘im, grab ‘im c’refully b’hind th’ head an’ unhook ‘im.”

Keeping his head stock still, he looked sidelong at his big brother to check he’d understood. Poor Virg looked pale, but he nodded and shifted into position in front of him, mouth set in a grim line. Behind him, John's face was a picture of worry.

“R'dy?” Gordon asked. 

Virgil nodded, hands poised.

He gave a little blink in lieu of a smile. “Okay."

Deep breath.

"One. Two. ‘Hree.”

And slowly he took off his helmet.

Virgil reached forwards and closed his hand next to his face. Gordon's skin pulled painfully for a moment, then released, leaving a sharp echo across his cheek.  

He exhaled in a big whoosh that seemed to come from his very soul, and raised his eyes to finally look on the thing that had bitten him.

“Scanning for a species match now,” said John urgently as Virgil stepped back, holding the offending creature out at arm’s length. “Cross-matching size, markings and-”

“It’s a Children’s Python!”

“A what?” Virgil asked roughly.

John took a massive breath in. “Oh thank god! Are you sure?”

“Certain,” replied Gordon, finding his feet and bouncing over to look a bit closer, all concern for his safety gone. “We had one as a class pet in 5th grade. Native to Northern Australia. Fantastic pets.”

“I can confirm the identification, John” said EOS. “The species is non-venomous.”

All the remaining colour drained from Virgil's face. He lowered himself down shakily into his chair, arm still outstretched. “Well in that case would someone please come and take this thing out of my hand before I have a heart attack?”

“Oops! Yep, give me one second…” 

Gordon grabbed the tray of eggs and fished out a roll of electrical tape from one of his console drawers. 

“This should keep the lid secure until we can get him into the shelter, at least.”

Gordon reached out and gently took hold of the little snake, who had stopped thrashing around and instead seemed content to curl its body gently around his hand. He took a second to admire its beautiful mottled markings in light and dark brown, and the gentle undulation of muscles pulsing as it moved.

"Hey, little guy."

The tiny snake flicked its tongue at him, tasting the air.

Slowly, gently, Gordon encouraged the snake back in the tray, extracted his hand, and then put the lid on and taped it down.

As soon as the tray was closed, John seemed to deflate like he was the one who’d been punctured.

“Please, for the love of god, don’t ever scare me like that again, okay guys? My cortisol levels can't take it."

"Take it easy John," soothed Virgil as he stumbled over to examine Gordon's cheek. "You sit back and have a float and we'll finish up here." 

He took Gordon by the chin and turned his face to the side. 

"...C'mon Blofeld, let's get you cleaned up."

…

Fifteen minutes later and sporting a natty Baby Shark band-aid on his cheek, Gordon skipped across the animal shelter car park towards the front desk. Alongside him, Virgil carried the now-definitely-sealed incubator. (Gordon had argued it was his privilege as 'the walking wounded’ not to have to carry stuff. Virgil had just rolled his eyes and agreed, muttering something about checking for himself to ensure no more 'jailbreaks'.)

Behind them, a dozen or so vets and other volunteers were unloading the various other crates of animals from Two's hold, checking them over and directing them to their respective enclosures.

Gordon grinned.

"Feeling better now?" asked Virgil, quirking a smile in reply.

He was, in more ways than one. Somehow, staring into the face of that tiny serpent had made him feel a lot more positive about everything. Nature really was amazing. If a baby creature, just out of its egg, could survive and protect itself in a hostile environment like that little one had today, then with a little bit of care he was sure the other animals they'd rescued would as well.

Life was good. He had his health, he had his family, and they’d done good today. 

Suddenly overcome with happiness, he couldn’t help doing a little jumping air punch, earning a low chuckle from his left.

"You were right, Virg. Today really was a win.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. "Not sure I'd quite describe it that way, but if you say so. You did still set a snake loose in my ‘bird, though.”

“Hey, don't blame me! I'm as much a victim as you are. Little Hissy Houdini's a force all of his own.”

A pause. “You named him?”

“Yep! Kinda fitting, don’t you think?”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed. 

"You’re not keeping him.”

Gordon gasped dramatically. 

“Virgil Tracy, I am shocked! I would never-”

“Sully the Gully, Puppy Longstocking, Razorbill Bob, the Swift Family Robinson…”

“...again. Never again.”

“Well that’s just as well then, because I don’t think Scott would appreciate finding this little escapologist in his sock drawer, do you?"

As Gordon contemplated all of the delicious trickster-y possibilities that that image brought up, he stretched and gave his back another series of cracks.

Virgil regarded him coolly. "You sound like a goddamn popcorn maker," he grumbled. "Speaking of, I wonder if the others'd be up for a movie night tonight? I feel like we've earned a bit of down time."

"Sounds good to me," said Gordon, flinging an arm around the big man's shoulders. "And I have the perfect one in mind… You like Samuel L Jackson films, right?"

[spaceshipsoutthepool]

Eeeeyyyyy I pulled @the-original-sineater for ze @tagminibang 2023 ! Inspired/based on their charming story "Tradition".

[tippystreasurebox]

For @mariashades for the 2023 tag mini bang!

This was inspired by The Unusual Family fic! The comparison of Gordon with his mom and Lucy got wedged in my brain after reading Gordon’s chapter 😭

[tagminibang]

TAG Mini Bag 2023 is go!

How it works:

Artists and Writers create works based off of an existing story or drawing.

Artists will not know who is writing for them and writers will not know who is drawing for them! It's a surprise for everyone at the end!

If you want to participate:

Message me with how you want to participate (artist or writer)

Send me a link or username to where your works can be found.

I will give out participant information and you can find something to inspire a new story or new artwork!

Dates:

Message me participant information by May 19th

Works are due the weekend of August 8th with the tag #tagminibang2023

Please let me know if you have any questions!

[katblu42]

Disney Princess Gordon

For TagMiniBang2023 @tagminibang and isnpired by wonderful art by @tippystreasurebox @godsliltippy Thanks @gumnut-logic for the read through!!

Main inspiration is this wonderful art.

It all started with that awesome painting Virgil did of Gordon sitting on the seabed, feeding the little fish that surrounded him. Gordon’s eyes had lit up the moment Virgil had revealed it to him, drinking in all the little details.  The colours, the beams of light, the bubbles, the illusion of movement in a still image, and the absolute joy of the moment all captured with brushstrokes.

“It’s amazing, Virg!”  Gordon had exclaimed in wonder, wrapping his big brother in one of his most clingy squid hugs to show his gratitude.  “Thanks!”

Then the discussion had begun with the entrance of his eldest and youngest brothers.

“Ooh, hey, cool painting.” Alan’s eyes wandered the expanse of canvas, trying to take it all in.

“Is this what you’ve been working on all this past week or so?”

Virgil nodded, and Gordon could see that little flicker of self-conscious doubt creep into his expression.  It was something that they all had, but it was only noticeable if you knew to look for it – that little niggling need for big brother approval.  The delighted pride that had sparkled in those deep brown eyes just moments ago faded momentarily until Scott’s hand landed on Virgil’s shoulder, and that famous dimpled smile spread across the eldest’s face as he studied the artwork.

“It’s fantastic, Virgil.  Really captures a moment that is so very Gordon.  I feel like I’m there with him.”

And the sparkle was back, the shoulders a little straighter, self-doubt chased away with a few words.

“Kinda reminds me of something, though.”  Alan stood with his head slightly tilted to one side, one hand reaching up to scratch absently at the back of his neck as he regarded the canvas.

He paused so long in silence the others had all begun picking out little details they liked, naming the types of fish, remarking on the colours and shading, then –

“He looks like a Disney princess!” Alan finally blurted out.

And suddenly they had all seen it.  The similarity to Snow White or Sleeping Beauty surrounded by woodland creatures, or Cinderella with the birds and mice. That was when John had joined the conversation by helpfully providing examples from the internet, holoprojected for comparison.

At the time Gordon had laughed along with his brothers.  After all, it was just harmless, good-natured fun, and it did kind of look a little like some of those old, animated movie scenes. 

“Are you suggesting Virgil should have given me a mermaid tail like Ariel?” he’d said with a laugh when images from the Little Mermaid were called up.

“Nah,” Scott had countered.  “You’re not a mermaid who wishes she could live on land, you’re a human who wishes he could live underwater.”

“Oh, yeah,” Alan chimed in.  “Like a reverse Little Mermaid.”

There had been more laughter, but little else said about it and they had all drifted away to other tasks soon after that.  Gordon had quickly put it out of his mind. Which is why it surprised him to now find himself startled awake by a rather vivid nightmare.  The dream had apparently made him restless enough to fall out of bed.  Head first.

[More inspirational art]

It took a moment for him to mentally orientate before he could physically right himself into a sitting position.  Heart still pounding, head beginning to throb and a brain full of images of a gigantic, tentacled monster with an evil grin and yellow glowing eyes who wanted too high a price in exchange for the ability to live underwater permanently.

[And another]

The dream itself was fading, but the fear of ending up “sleeping with the fishes” instead of living amongst them still gripped him tightly.

Gordon was sure Lady Penelope had been a part of his dream, and that somehow the deal he was making with KrakenHood involved leaving his brothers to be with her.  He almost called her to discuss his weird bad dream with her, wondering if she could help him makes sense of what it was all about and where it had sprung from.  Then he remembered the painting and the ensuing discussion the afternoon before.

He thought it seemed an odd thing to have sparked a nightmare like that.  And while he tried to put it all out of his mind as he climbed back into bed and tried to get back to sleep, that proved easier said than done.

The whole Disney princess discussion was replaying itself in his mind.  Over and over.  Snow White.  Sleeping Beauty. Cinderella. The Little Mermaid.  They’d all been mentioned and Gordon had laughed along with his brothers at the comparisons.  He hadn’t been bothered by it.  Or had he?

Something wasn’t sitting right with him, but he couldn’t put a finger on what exactly.  So, despite trying to put the whole thing out of his mind, he ended up spending another couple of sleepless hours tossing and turning.

When the glow of pre-dawn light summoned the dawn chorus the next morning Gordon roused himself and made his way down to the pool.  He stood in the shadows watching the sunrise paint the sky and barely registered Scott taking off for his morning run.  There was no greeting, so Gordon figured Scott hadn’t seen him.

His morning laps were lazier than normal – a contrast to an unrested and still churning mind.  He’d completed a little over half the normal number of laps by the time Scott returned and tossed a “Morning Fish!” in his direction.

Gordon returned the greeting with his normal chirpiness.  Or so he thought.

By the time Gordon had climbed out of the pool, made a half-hearted attempt at towelling off and headed into the kitchen, Scott was waiting for him at the kitchen table.  The waiting wasn’t particularly unusual, but the fact he was seated definitely was.  A glass of Gordon’s favourite breakfast juice was slid across the table, indicating a summons to sit.

“What’s up, Squid?”

Okay, so maybe his big brother was more observant than he’d like to admit right now.  It wasn’t going to stop Gordon from deflecting.

“The usual.  What’s up with you?”

An eyebrow was raised in response.

Gordon took a long sip of his drink in an effort to say nothing more until Scott spoke again.  This would not have worked with Virgil – he knew how to wait until you couldn’t stand it anymore and had to risk incriminating yourself by filling the horrible expanse of silence.  John was almost as bad but was more likely to use unavoidable questions rather than complete silence. But Scott didn’t have that level of patience, and Gordon knew he wouldn’t stay quiet for long.

“Really?” Right on cue.  Less than 30 seconds.  “You’re going to avoid the question and pretend I can’t see the dark circles under your eyes?  Next I suppose you’re going to tell me I imagined the fact that you were out by the pool earlier than normal, but too distracted to set your normal lap count and timer?”

Damn!  Gordon’s gaze fell to the table and his finger trailed through the little ring of water left by the condensation from his glass.

There was an implication that John might have had a word to Scott, a little heads-up that Gordon’s routine was a little off today.  Deep down Gordon knew that Scott probably didn’t need the tip-off, though.

“I’m fine, Scott.” He knew his slumped shoulders said otherwise.  “Just a bit distracted, like you said.”

“Something on your mind?”

“It’s nothing, really.”

Gordon didn’t need to look up from his condensation finger painting to know that piercing blue eyes were intently studying him.

“Distractions that cause a sleepless night can hardly be considered nothing.”  Scott’s hand reached across to Gordon’s, stilling the fidgeting.

Gordon heaved a sigh and raised his gaze to meet his brother’s.  “I had a really weird dream and it got me thinking.  That’s all.”

“Oh?”

How one tiny word could convey so much Gordon would never know, but that single uttered syllable actually translated to “Go on, I’m listening.  Spill your guts, Gordon.  I won’t judge you, I’m here for you and I’m not gonna let up until you talk to me, so you might as well just get it over with.”  Or words to that effect.

He wondered if it was a big brother thing.  John and Virgil could do it too.  That and the eyebrow thing.  They could all interrogate you using just their eyebrows.

Gordon resigned himself to his fate and sat up a little straighter, steeling himself for an awkward conversation.

“I dreamed I was in some kind of Little Mermaid AU, or whatever.  Like Alan said yesterday.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Gordon, if anything we said yesterday bothered you –“

“No!  It didn’t, I swear.” Gordon held a hand up in a Rescue Scout salute, then let it drop. “At least, I didn’t think it did at the time, but . . .”

The bright-eyed rush to reassure Scott that no offence had been taken ebbed away with a shrug and another sigh.

“I don’t really know what’s bugging me about it.”

“The painting?”

“No, I love the painting! It’s awesome.  Virgil did such an amazing job with it.  It looks kind of like I feel when I’m down there with the fish, you know?”

Scott’s crooked smile in reply suggested that he did, at least in some way know what Gordon was trying to say.

“He’ll be glad to hear that.  So, was it the way we compared you to a princess?”

“No . . .?” the uncertainty etched itself into Gordon’s frown.  “Not really.  Not if you mean misgendering, because I didn’t take it that way.  None of that matters to me.”  A wicked grin formed, and an eyebrow quirked upward.  “Besides, I’m not the only Tracy boy who’s dressed up as a princess on occasion!”

Scott’s own smile broke containment and became a chuckle.

“I think . . .” realisation dawning, the thoughts barely formed before Gordon spoke the words, “maybe it’s more about the specific princesses that were mentioned.”

“What about them?”

“They don’t fit me,” the words came faster now, the thought more fully formed.  “I mean, I’m not them. Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella.  I don’t fit those stories.  Not even the Little Mermaid.”

“Gordon –“

“Maybe that’s what the dream was?  My mind trying to fit me into Ariel’s story or something, and realising that’s just not the right Disney Princess for me to identify with.”

“You don’t have to identify with a Disney Princess.”  Scott’s brow furrowed before the confusion gave way to a frustrated eye-roll and a facepalm rolled into one.  “Why would you even put this much thought into it?

Gordon shrugged again, but this time the action was full of his regular jauntiness and accompanied by his trademark mischievous grin.  He no longer felt weighed down by his thoughts, knowing he was onto something.

“I dunno.  I kind of like the comparison, I guess.  I’ve just gotta find the right . . .“ Gordon’s eyes widened, lit with a fire of inspiration that had Scott’s Gordon’s-bright-ideas alarm bells ringing for a moment.

The two were so engrossed in the discussion, Virgil’s quiet entry into the room went unnoticed.  He paused in his journey toward the coffee pot, appearing to attempt to process what he was witnessing.

“So, which princess are you then?”

Gordon stood, striking a dramatic pose as he proudly sang “I am Moana!”

~~~

That evening, sitting alone in his room going over some recent statistics on the population and general health of various marine species he’d been helping to monitor, a piece of paper was quietly slipped under his door.

Wandering over and picking it up he immediately recognised it as a page from one of Virgil’s sketch books, and the image depicted on it had his face splitting into a wide grin.

[One more!]

I hope this little fic does the wonderful art justice.

I did want to add a little more - Gordon's lists of similarities and differences to each princess mentioned - but time got away from me, and I think the story flows okay without those. But if anyone's curious . . . let me know! :)

[ajpendragon]

Tracy's don't Quit

This is for @soniabigcheese and @followthepaintbrush . There were so many amazing choices (I may have written another 400 words on accident for a different picture), but this picture just kind of grabbed on to me, and kept dragging me back until I agreed to write it. I hope I was able to do justice to it. You can find the link here. And the story below the cut.

They were nearly 72 hours into the worst disaster they had experienced in the history of the Thunderbirds and all of them were running on copious amounts of caffeine and severely lacking amounts of sleep. Scott and John were functioning passably well, both used to sleepless nights and short naps snatched when they could get them. Virgil had passed a healthy amount of coffee about two days ago, and was currently on his fifth cup in as many hours. While they all knew he was leading up to a horrible crash as soon as he stopped, not even Scott was brave enough to try to take it away. The youngest two were gulping down energy drinks whenever possible, which Scott had taken to confiscating when he spotted them. But not even big brother could be everywhere at once, and they had managed to sneak quite a few past his watchful eyes.

Even still, all of them were flagging. They were lucky that John had been down from orbit and was already adjusted to gravity before he was called out, because they needed everyone. EOS was overseeing the operation from orbit, rerouting other emergency calls to their local authorities, and helping to coordinate the hundreds of people on site. Every disaster agency in the world had sent people, the emergency uniting people in a way they rarely ever were. Grandma was in one of the many medical tents set up at a safe distance, helping to patch up as many as she could along with doctors from every corner of the world. Even Brains had left the island, joining some of the brightest minds in the world to help figure out a solution. And Kayo was off trying to find the cause. 

But even with all the help, it wasn’t enough. They were rapidly losing the fight, being pushed back gradually with every hour that passed. If they didn’t come up with a solution soon, there would be no way to stop it. The earthquake had been relatively minor, initially, and confined to a fairly small area. If it had stopped, there would have been no need for International Rescue. But four days of a continuous earthquake, combined with the heavy rains the region had been experiencing, had led to a massive sinkhole, which was growing by the hour. Alan had been tasked with flying Thunderbird Two, using the equipment on board to help stabilize the sides of the massive hole. It was only delaying the inevitable, but they had to do what they could, holding out until they could find a solution. Scott and Gordon had been in and out of pods, racing through the woods around the site, clearing out every home they found. John and Virgil were focused on the town, going door to door to ensure every house was empty. Most of the town was damaged from the earthquake, so they were climbing in and out of broken buildings, pulling people from the wreckage and loading them onto the rescue planes on the edge of town.

Fighting to save people during an active earthquake was taking its toll. Scott had been in a building when a particularly strong tremor hit, (with his helmet off, of course) and a piece of ceiling had fallen on him. He had an impressive black eye, and probably a concussion, although he had managed to avoid Virgil’s sharp eyes and continued to work. Gordon had been climbing on the outside of the same building, trying to find an easier way to get to the people in the attic, and managed to catch himself when the ceiling fell in, but wrenched his back and shoulder. Nothing was broken, thankfully, but that didn’t necessarily mean it hurt any less. Alan was far past the usual limits for their flight hours. Virgil had raw spots where his exo-suit attached to his body, and had taken to shoving rags in the gaps of the harness for extra padding. John had slipped when a particularly strong tremor had hit, and landed on a falling beam, severely bruising or possibly even breaking his ribs.But there was nothing to be done. The people counting on them couldn’t afford for them to stop, so none of them did, ignoring their own problems to focus on the bigger picture.

A rare moment of downtime had all five of them were together near the medical tents. The rescue teams had just arrived from bringing back their latest batch of rescuees, and were attempting to grab some food as quickly as possible. The constant work had worn them all down, and they were beyond exhausted. 

The five of them were seated in a circle, gulping down bowls of hot stew someone had prepared. Scott was careful to keep his black eye facing away from Virgil, hoping to put off the inevitable lecture for as long as possible, and was letting John lean against his back to help take pressure off of his space brother’s aching ribs. Gordon was up and down, sitting and grabbing a few bites before jumping back up to pace, knowing that if he fully stopped moving, he wouldn’t be able to get back up. Virgil had taken the opportunity to remove the exo-suit, and was enjoying the freedom of movement without its restrictions. Alan sat down to eat, but jumped up to his feet as soon as he was done, bending and stretching to work the tension out of his back. 

“We’re losing too much ground.” Scott said finally, refusing to look up from his bowl. “I don’t know how much more we can do. If they can’t come up with a solution soon, it’s going to be too late. The town is already destroyed, and if we lose much more land, this whole area is going to be uninhabitable. I know we don’t give up, but I don’t know what else to do. We’re all far past our normal limits. If it were any other time, we would all be grounded right now. We’ve gotten most of the people out. What else is there to do?”

They all stared at him. It was so unlike their eldest brother to give up, that they didn’t even know what to say. He was right. There wasn’t much more they could do. Almost everyone was evacuated, and they were all exhausted. Why were they even still fighting?

“No!” Gordon exclaimed. “We can’t give up. Yes, we’ve gotten most of the people out, but there’s still more people out there. We can’t give up until it’s done. We won’t give up until it’s done. Because that’s not who we are. We’re not quitters. We don’t stop in the middle of a rescue. We don’t stop until it’s done. If we give up now, who even are we? No one will ever trust us again. No one will call us for rescue in their emergencies. Can you imagine the headlines? ‘International Rescue gives up the fight’ and ‘World emergency teams fight disaster without International Rescue.’ We will lose any credence we have. People will die, not just here, but in emergencies around the world because they no longer believe in International Rescue. We cannot stop now.”

Gordon pushed himself to his feet, stepping into the center of the circle. “Come on, guys. We’ve got this.” He stuck his uninjured hand out into the middle. “We’re International Rescue.”

Surprisingly, John was the next to join him, other hand wrapped around his aching ribs. “He’s right. People are counting on International Rescue. We can’t let them down. And we’re not just International Rescue. We’re Tracy’s.”

Virgil’s hand came down next. “Tracy’s don’t quit.”

Alan straightened up and joined them. “No we don’t. We can do this.”

The four of them looked at Scott. He rolled his eyes at them, then winced at the pain the action caused. If they weren’t so desperate, Virgil would have sent him to the medical tents as soon as he spotted his eye. As it was, as soon as this was over, Scott knew he would be hearing about it. Pushing himself heavily to his feet, he glared at his brothers. “What would I do without you guys?” He added his hand to the pile. “You’re right. We’re needed here. And we’ll stay until we’re not. Thunderbirds are Go.”

Virgil began to buckle himself back into his exo-suit, Alan already headed back to the cockpit of Thunderbird Two. Scott and Gordon climbed back behind the controls of their pods, John climbing in behind Scott and Virgil on top of Gordon’s. “I didn’t know we were a taxi service!” Gordon joked, firing up the engines and driving back into the fight. 

“No one told you? We just finished the name change. We’re no longer International Rescue. We are now International Taxi Service.” 

Gordon snorted at his space brother’s rare joke. “Then what are we still doing here, Scott? Let’s get these passengers to their destination!”

Just as they were arriving back at the front, their comms sparked to life. “Scott! Scott! I’ve got it. We have a s-s-solution. But I n-need to get it there as soon as possible.”

“Alan.” Scott ordered.

“Already on it.” In the distance, they could hear the powerful engines of Thunderbird Two cut off, and a moment later, One rose into the sky, quickly disappearing into the clouds. “Hold the line while I’m gone. We’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Energized by the promise of a solution, the rest of the brothers pushed onward. Dropping their passengers at the town, Scott and Gordon turned back into the woods. Virgil and John headed into the town, proceeding down the last street they had not yet checked. Most of the houses were flattened, with no one possibly still inside, but the last two on the street were still mostly standing. Virgil stopped at the first house, the doorway blocked by broken beams and chunks of rubble. “I’ve got this one. You head to the next one and make sure it’s clear.”

“F.A.B” John replied, ducking through the doorway. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness inside. He called out, squinting to make out what he could. “Hello? Is anyone here?” No one answered, but something told him to keep looking. “Hello?” The ceiling creaked, which he would have attributed to the earthquakes except for the fact that at the moment, the ground was blessedly still. The staircase was surprisingly still intact, and he clambered over the debris covering the steps. Once upstairs, he peered into doorways, looking for the source of the noise. The final door opened to what was clearly a little girl’s room, the pink bedspread covered in dust and the frames from the walls shattered on the ground. “Hello?” A small whimper from the far side of the bed answered him. He stepped over, boots crunching on glass, to find a little girl tucked into the corner, clutching a stuffed dog to her chest.

“Virgil, I’ve got someone. Little girl, around 5 years old. Minor lacerations, but appears otherwise unharmed. We’ll meet you outside so you can check her out.” John scooped the girl up into his arms as Virgil’s “F.A.B.” echoed from his comm. “Hi, sweetheart. What’s your name?”

“Emily.” She whispered, curling up into his chest. 

“Hi Emily. My name is John. We’re going to get you out of here, okay?” Holding her carefully, John headed back out of the building. Halfway down the stairs, another tremor hit the building, and the floorboards collapsed underneath them. As they fell, he twisted his body to take the brunt of the impact, but the collision took its toll on his already injured ribs. If they weren’t broken before, they certainly are now, he reflected, just as everything faded to black.

He awoke again a few seconds later, hearing Virgil’s frantic voice through the comms. “John? John, answer me!”

“I’m here.” He groaned. “We’re a little banged up, but we’re doing alright. Any chance you’re coming to get us?”

“I’m on my way. Stay put until I get there.”

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on moving.” As Virgil disappeared, he turned to the girl in his arms, who was beginning to tremble. “Hey Emily, are you doing okay?”

She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. The stuffed dog in her arms was clutched even tighter than before.

“It’s okay. My brother will be here in just a minute, and then we can get out of here. Does that sound better?” She nodded shakily. “I like your dog. What’s his name?”

“Puppy.” She whispered.

“Puppy. That’s a great name! He seems like a very nice dog. May I pet him?” She solemnly held the dog out, and John gently pet the soft fluff, smoothing out his coat, brushing debris from the fibers. “He is a very nice dog! He must be very special.”

He managed to push himself up slightly, easing the pain of breathing with broken ribs, and she settled herself on his lap. “He is very special. My daddy got him for me, before he left for his trip. He said to keep him to remind me that he was coming home soon. I have lots of stuffies, but Puppy is my favorite.”

“That is special. Tell me about your other stuffies.”

She prattled on happily until Virgil poked his head around the wall of debris next to them. At the sight of the unfamiliar man, she clung tightly to John. He barely held back a groan, not wanting to scare her further, but he couldn’t hide the wince from his brother’s sharp eyes. “It’s okay Emily. This is my brother Virgil. He’s going to help us get out of here.” At the reassurance, she turned back to face Virgil, loosening her hold slightly, but not letting go. “I’m going to need you to go with him for just a minute. I can’t get up when you’re sitting on me. You’re much too big!”

She giggled, reaching for Virgil. He took her carefully, reaching out his other hand to pull his brother to his feet. As soon as John was standing, she reached for him again. “No sweetheart, you’re going to stay with me.” Virgil protested, hoping to keep his brother from any more injuries today. Her lip quivered, and her eyes began to fill with tears. 

“It’s okay, Virgil. I’ll take her.” She clambered happily into his arms. Virgil tried to protest, but one look from his brother stopped him. He appeared to have grown attached already, even in the short time they had been together. “I need you to hold very still for me though, Emily. If you wiggle too much, I might drop you. You’re too big to hold if you’re wiggly!” 

She giggled again, curling her arms around John’s neck. “I’m not that big. I’m only five.”

“You’re only five?” John gasped, feigning shock. “I though you were at least eight. Are you sure you’re not eight?”

She shook her head at him, holding tightly as they began to walk back towards the rescue planes. Each step was slow and painful, but he refused to let her see. She was counting on him. Virgil walked next to them, obviously chafing at not being allowed to help. “Why don’t you go check the next street, Virgil? I’ll be there in a moment.”

“There aren’t any-“

He was cut off by their comms crackling to life. “Guys, I’ve got something.”

“Kayo! It’s good to hear from you. Please tell me you found the source?” Scott answered the comm instantly, sounding a little out of breath.

“Yes. I think I found the device causing all the problems. It will take me a minute to disable it, but as soon as I can, we should be good.”

“That’s good to hear. Alan, how far are you?”

“Three minutes out, Scott. We should be there by the time the device is shut down. We already uploaded the formula for Brains’ solution to Thunderbird Two, so it should be ready when we get there. Give us five minutes, and we’ll be ready.”

“F.A.B.” Scott replied. “John and Virgil, how’s the town looking?”

“It’s empty.” Virgil replied. “We’re getting the last person out now. How’s it looking on your end?”

“Pretty clear. If we’re so close to shutting this down, I don’t think we need to search any more. We’ve got the danger zone clear.” 

“Think we could get a pick-up then? We’d both love to avoid the rescue planes if possible. They’re a little crowded. And I’d like to get back fast enough to fly Two.”

Alan’s protest came over the line, but he was ignored by his brothers. “You got it. We’ll be right there.”

John settled himself on a chunk of rubble to wait for their brothers, Virgil using the time to shrug off his exo-suit and fold it as small as he could. They could strap it to the outside of the pod, and he could ride inside. He rolled his shoulders, grateful to be rid of the extra weight. Scott and Gordon pulled up in a cloud of dust, and Virgil quickly loaded up the exo-suit before holding Emily while John climbed into the pod behind Scott. He passed her back as soon as his brother was settled, and clambered to sit behind Gordon. 

“Who is this?” Scott asked.

“This is Emily. I found her in the last house we searched, alone.”

Emily curled up into his arms, hiding her face from Scott. 

“Well, Emily. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Scott, and you must be a very brave girl.” At his words, she peeked out slightly, smiling. The pods spun off through the forest, following the track they had cleared on their first trip.

“The device is deactivated.” Kayo’s voice announced from their comms. 

“Yay!” “Alright!” “Well done!” The cheers echoed as they arrived back at the medical tents, Thunderbird One touching down at the same time. Everyone piled out of their vehicles, hurrying over to Thunderbird Two. As the platform raised them into the cockpit, Virgil hurried over to his seat. “Alan, you’re way over your flight hours, but you’re the only one still fit to fly, so you can copilot.” Alan rushed over the copilot’s seat, just barely beating Scott, who clearly wasn’t listening.

Brains was already in the capsule, configuring the chemical formulas for Two’s fire suppression system to adapt to his new formula. Gordon was down with him, his greater experience on Two helping to calm the nervous engineer. John had secured himself in one of the passenger seats, Emily still wrapped in his arms. There wasn’t time to find her parents, and John was not going to miss out on finally ending this fight. 

“Virgil, I can copilot.” Scott protested. “Alan’s flown too much today. He needs a break.”

“No way am I letting you copilot my ‘bird with your concussion. Sit down, Scott, and don’t even try to argue with me on this. You know I’m right.”

Scott wisely sat down and shut up.

The powerful VTOL engines of Two lifted them into the air, and they were off towards the sinkhole. Virgil flipped a switch, and the fire-suppression nozzles swung into place under the belly of the plane. “Alright, Brains. Let’s see if your solution works.” They flew slowly, covering the walls of the hole in a layer of foam, which grew and hardened almost instantly upon hitting the surface. 

“It’s working!” Alan cheered. The combination of the stabilizing solution and the lack of earthquakes was having the desired effect. The growth of the hole was finally stopped. As soon as the walls were fully coated, Virgil turned Two around and landed her back near the medical tents. They all piled out of the Thunderbird, relief mounting at the end of their task.

“Come on, Emily.” John said, lifting her up onto his shoulders. “We have somewhere we need to be.” The two of them headed towards the temporary shelters that had been erected. It didn’t take long before a woman came running out from the crowd. “Emily!” She cried. John swung the girl down from his shoulders, and her mother gathered her up into her arms. Not one to stick around for thanks, John disappeared as soon as they were distracted, and by the time they looked up, was safely out of sight. 

He rejoined his brothers and grandmother, who were standing gathered around the base of the Thunderbird. “Let’s get home.” Scott said. “The local authorities can handle it from here. We’re all well past our limits. As soon as we get home, I’m issuing mandatory down time for all of us for at least a week. Longer for some of you.” He looked pointedly at John and Gordon.

“No complaints here.” John replied, getting a “Same,” from his aquanaut brother. They all climbed back into Thunderbird Two, quickly settling back into their seats. Virgil took the pilot’s seat. Alan tried to claim his place as copilot again, but was ordered back. “Grandma is going to be my copilot on the way back. You’re too tired to fly, kiddo.” Alan pouted as he settled into one of the passenger seats, but fell asleep almost instantly. “We can remote pilot One back. None of you are setting foot out of this cockpit. John, can you handle it?”

“F.A.B.”

Scott tried to pull up the controls to his Thunderbird on his arm display, no matter what Virgil said, but found his system unresponsive.

“I’ve already locked you out, Scott. You have a concussion. You’re not flying anything, not even remotely.”

Scott glared at his younger brother, but the action made his head pound and he had to admit that his brothers might be right. He settled back into his seat, shutting his eyes as Two lifted into the air. It had been a very long rescue, but they were finally done. He let himself relax, letting the quiet conversation from Virgil and Grandma wash over him. The blue glow as John sent One rocketing ahead of them filled the cabin, and the quiet snores from Alan lulled him to sleep. 

[mrmustachious]

@tagminibang

For @soniabigcheese // @followthepaintbrush

Based on this piece of art!

Something about this piece and the way they are looking at each other so desperately reminded me so strongly of that one Fitzsimmons scene in Agents of Shield, so this is partially based on that as well. I had so much fun looking through all your art @soniabigcheese​, and I hope you enjoy!

“Hey, Pen?”

Penelope lifted her head towards the man who occupied the small space with her.

His face was illuminated by the small amount of light that came from his torch and her compact, and Penelope could see the harsh bruising that covered his left temple.

“Yeah?” Her voice sounded scratchy to her ears, which was a result of all the dust that had kicked up around them, and the coughing fit that had followed.

“When Virgil gets here, he’ll only be able to take one of us up at a time,” Gordon explained, though she already expected as much. “You should go up first.”

“What? No, it should be you.” Penelope couldn’t believe her ears, and she walked across the small space to stand across from him. She had already resigned herself to the fact she would go up second, and for good reason. “You’re hurt!”

Aside from the bruising on his face from a possible concussion, plus the broken arm that he had fished out a sling from his sash for, he probably had other injuries that they hadn’t realised yet. He was the one who protected her from the rocks when the cave began to collapse, so he was the one who should be saved first.

“You’re hurt too.” With his good arm, he pointed to her fingers that were crudely held together with the best splint Gordon could make with his limited supplies.

They hurt like hell and were probably broken, but it paled in comparison to Gordon’s injuries.

“Besides, I’m used to situations like this,” Gordon continued. “This is my job, which is to save people. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I saved myself before you.”

“This is my job too,” she argued back. “I may not find myself trapped in caves as much as you do, but I can handle myself.”

“I know that, but… I couldn’t take it if something happened to you.” Gordon’s voice lowered and his eyes briefly flickered away.

Penelope felt her cheeks heat up. She didn’t know why those words made her feel like she suddenly had butterflies in her stomach, especially as they came from Gordon. However, this was not the time to dwell on it, so she shook off whatever those feelings were.

“Well, I also don’t want anything to happen to you.”

They both knew what they were really arguing for here. The cave surrounding them was precariously held together. One shift of a rock, a small quake, it could all send the rest of it tumbling down on top of them. It was a miracle they still had this small, safe pocket.

Every second that passed was another moment closer to them not making it out of this cave, so the chances of them both making it out of there was slim. Penelope had trust in Gordon’s brothers to do everything it took, but even they couldn’t stop a cave from falling on their heads.

And Penelope couldn’t live with herself if she made it out of there and Gordon didn’t.

She was stubborn, and was determined to keep fighting the other man until he listened to her.

However, before Penelope could argue further, Gordon continued.

“Pen-” He hesitated, and his voice shifted. With his good hand, he rubbed the back of his neck as he cast his eyes to the floor.

It made Penelope pause. Gordon never seemed shy, not like he did at that moment. Despite her thoughts and the pressing time limit they had, she waited for him to continue.

“You mean so much to me. So much more than anyone else,” he eventually said as he dropped his hand and lifted his eyes to meet hers. There was a vulnerability in them that she had never seen in the other man. “I was too scared to tell you sooner, but now I’m afraid I’ll never get another chance.”

He took a step closer and she didn’t move, either because she was stunned by the words, or because she didn’t want to move away from him.

“I really like you, Penelope. Since the day I met you, I knew how I felt about you.”

He lifted a hand and brushed his thumb against her cheek, like he was wiping away a bit of dirt, before he tucked back a piece of her hair.

“You don’t have to feel the same way. I just wanted you to know.”

Penelope’s heart was thumping rapidly in her chest as she stood unable to move. They were standing so close to each other now, their faces only inches apart. He held her gaze, and she couldn’t look away from his eyes.

The trance was broken by a loud noise above them, and small rocks started to fall around them, landing in their hair. They both quickly glanced up, but things thankfully seemed to settle. Hopefully, it was just a result of Virgil getting close to them.

When she looked back at the other man, Gordon was already stepping away.

“We’re not fighting about this. You’re going first.” Gordon’s tone left no room for argument.

“Gordon…” She finally found her voice, not that she knew what to say.

What was she meant to say?

“I’m almost there, coming in from the west,” Virgil’s voice cut through, ending any further words between the two of them.

She didn’t know what direction west was, but Gordon appeared to, as he grasped her wrist and pulled her to one side of their small space.

“FAB,” Gordon replied to his brother as he tapped his sash.

Penelope couldn’t look away from Gordon, but the man seemed to ignore her, as he stared at a spot in the ceiling. She could still feel the touch of his glove on her cheek.

Anything that could have been said between them was swallowed by the loud noises of machinery and crumbling rocks as more dust was kicked about.

When it settled and things grew quiet again, a hole was revealed in the ceiling, along with Virgil, who was lowering himself to the ground by a rope attached to his harness.

“How are you both doing?” He placed the tool he had been using to cut the hole by his feet as he reached the ground. He had already been informed of their injuries after he demanded a status report when the cave first collapsed, but he still looked them over.

“We’re fine.” Gordon replied before she could. Then, he gave her a gentle push towards the other man. “Take Penelope up first. I can wait.”

Penelope went to protest, but when she looked at him, he gave her a watery smile, and she found she couldn’t.

Before she knew it, she was wearing a harness and Virgil had an arm around her as he prepared for their ascent.

“You’ll be alright, yeah? I’ll only be a few minutes.”

Penelope realised he was talking to Gordon, to which the man replied with a smile she could see through and a thumbs up.

“I’ll be waiting.”

As they started to make their way out of the cave, Penelope caught sight of Gordon one last time. He was waving at her, but she caught something in his eyes, something that was shared only between the two of them. Then, he was gone from her sight as her vision was replaced with the walls of the hole Virgil had created, and then a much bigger cavern.

The air felt fresher and cooler, and she no longer felt so claustrophobic. Virgil lowered them both onto the ground, and then got to detaching her harness from his rope.

His movements were swift and it was clear he wanted to get back down to Gordon as quickly as he could, but it was too late.

Suddenly, the ground began to shift, and Penelope was reminded of the first quake that had trapped them in the first place.

Her heart plummeted.

Gordon.

Her mind was yelling his name, and it took her a moment to realise Virgil was yelling it too. He rushed over to the hole he had created, to find it had been blocked once more.

No.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Don't worry he's fiiiiiine. Virgil will get him out, though maybe he'll forget everything he just said 🤭

[angelofbenignmalevolence]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go (Cartoon 2015) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: John Tracy, Scott Tracy Additional Tags: Thunderstorms, Brotherly Bonding, suspense if you squint hard enough, Tag Mini Bang 2023, Tagminibang 2023 Summary:

John is awake much later than he should be, and as a result he is the first to notice when the power goes out. But is it just the storm? Or is there another reason why John is uneasy?

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I was given @jbarkerstargazer for the @tagminibang gift exchange 2023. I hope you enjoy it! :)

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Thunder rolled across the Kansas sky. Rain beat down on the roof of the Gran Roca Ranch. Most of the ranch’s occupants were asleep. So too should have been John, but John had never been one to be able to fall asleep early. There were usually stars for him to wish on, telescopes to make them clearer, bring them closer to him, as if by bringing them closer it would bring him one step closer to his dream of going to space. Tonight, though, there were only clouds and raindrops that left little rivulets down the surface of his window.

John sat with his back against the headboard of the bed. Rain had always been a soothing sound to him, reminding him of days where he had sat cuddled against their parents as they read or watched a movie with him and his brothers, but he wasn’t quite ready to give into the urge to sleep. A book lay across his lap, one that had become so familiar to him he could probably recite the whole thing by heart. He had read it so often with his mother that the cover had become worn and the binding had become loose in some places and he could almost hear his mother’s voice reading him the words once again, though he never fooled himself that she would. The echo of his mother’s voice and the familiar words were just the thing for nights where the thoughts in his mind wouldn’t slow down long enough for him to fall asleep.

A flash of lightning and a clap of thunder that was almost directly overhead sent the room into a sudden darkness after a few moments. John frowned as he reached for the light, toggling the switch as if to see if the light would reappear magically, as if the lightbulb had decided that it was time for him to go to bed. Unsurprisingly, the light did not return at this gesture. Great. They had lost power, and due to the remoteness of the ranch, it could be awhile before they saw the power return.

John sighed as fumbled to find the night table on which he could place the book, resigning himself that he was done reading for the night. The back cover of the book found the night table in the dark as his eyes continued to adjust. He winced slightly as he let go of the book and it toppled off the side of the nightstand, landing on the ground next to the nightstand with an unceremonious thud on the carpet. The noise wasn’t loud by any stretch of the imagination, but in the near silence of the rest of the house, the sound felt deafening to John.

He lay back against his pillows with a soft sigh, looking up at his ceiling. He laid like this for several minutes, trying to will himself to ignore the restlessness inside of him, the part that itched to get up and find something to help him read again, to sit by a telescope and search for stars that would be impossible to find on a night like tonight. He tried to focus on the sound of the rain hitting the roof, the sound of thunder rolling, but the sounds only made him itch to get up and watch the storm from the window. He closed his eyes and tried focusing on his breaths instead, counting each inhale and then each exhale, trying to focus only on his breathing, but this too led him to distraction. Suddenly made aware of every discomfort he felt lying there in bed.

He had just about given up on the whole endeavor when he heard footsteps moving down the hall. He frowned slightly. He was normally the only one awake at this hour. The footsteps were too light to be their father, who always seemed to move with a purpose, regardless of the time of night. They were too heavy and too slow to be Alan or Gordon, as their steps were lighter, more playful. Which meant that the footsteps had to belong to either Scott or Virgil.

He slowly shifted to get out of bed, trying to ensure that his footfalls were gentle so as not to awaken anyone else should they have been half awakened by the storm too. He tiptoed over to the door, which he carefully and silently opened. He could see a figure silhouetted against the closet in the hall. The figure was tall, so John made an educated guess that it had to be Scott, who seemed to be rummaging in search of something in the closet. John watched him for several moments, curious. What on earth was Scott doing? It wasn’t as if Scott being up was unusual, as he often had work or some nightmares from his service days, but usually he would keep to himself and John would hear him get up to sit at his computer desk. It was not often that he found Scott wandering the halls.

Scott made a sound of annoyance, clearly unsuccessful in finding whatever it was that he was looking for, and closed the closet door with a soft click. He turned to continue down the hallway, but a soft *bump* followed, with a whispered string of expletives as Scott steadied the small table where the boys normally put their school bags during the school year so they were set for the morning, a practice their parents had put in place so they didn’t have to wrangle five backpacks in the morning.

“You best hope grandma never hears you swearing like that,” John whispered as he opened the door a little wider. Scott jumped and spun to look at John, or attempt to in the dark.

“John?” The whisper confirmed it was his eldest brother. John’s body released tension he wasn’t aware that he had been holding. Scott moved closer to his door. “It’s the middle of the night. What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same question,” John said. His eyes had adjusted to the dark enough for him to see Scott’s head tilt in a way that suggested an eye roll at the question.

“I guess I have to give you that,” he said. “Thunder woke me up. Got up to check on Alan. You know how he gets with thunderstorms sometimes. I got sidetracked though. Power’s out. Thought I might go see if I can get the generator started…give dad a chance to sleep through it since he’s been working late on that project with Gaat.”

“The generator is out by the barn,” John said. “You know that’s going to be a heck of a walk in the dark. Not to mention the rain.”

“Yeah,” Scott said. “I thought we had the old battery-operated lantern in the closet up here for just such an occasion, but it may never have made its way back from the barn after our last camping trip.” The old barn had once been used for their farming equipment and livestock, but since their father had gone into the space flight programs, it had become a collecting spot for outdoors gear and for various pieces of farm equipment and scaled down versions of prototypes for crafts their father was in the process of developing. Scott sighed. “Means I have to go get the old oil lantern from the basement and find where dad left the matches.”

“Do you want help?” John asked. Or company? His mind added, finding himself reluctant to be alone now that he knew his eldest brother was still awake at this hour. Scott shook his head.

“It’s alright. No reason for us both to get soaked going out to the generator. Unless you want to come with.” John nodded, grateful that his brother hadn’t outright refused him. For some reason, this storm agitated John rather than calming him and Scott had always been the one to soothe John’s fears and uneasiness after their mother had died.

“Let me get some shoes,” John said, tiptoeing back into his room to grab a pair of old sneakers. The ground would be mud with the torrent of rain tonight. He didn’t want to ruin his good school sneakers running to the barn. He rifled through the bottom of his closet for a moment before he found two matching boots (at least, he was pretty sure they were matching) and moved back to the door to meet Scott again. He carried the boots down the stairs as he followed Scott down into the darkened living room. The whole thing felt a little like an obstacle course, though his eyes had somewhat adjusted to the darkness by now. He set his boots down by the door that would lead them to the barn and made his way through the room toward the door to the basement, only softly bumping the couch and a table once.

As Scott opened the door to the basement, the blackness below seemed to loom even darker than the blackness surrounding them, and John hesitated for a moment, his uneasiness growing. John wasn’t afraid of the dark, but he trusted his gut and something about this storm didn’t feel normal. Scott’s footsteps on the stairs made the wood creak and groan beneath him, the sound almost eerie. John shivered as his hand rested on the doorframe.

“And you’re sure the other lantern isn’t upstairs?” John asked.

“You don’t have to follow me, you know,” Scott said. John made a soft noise of indignation, as if Scott had accused him of cowardice, before he tentatively started down the steps following the sound of Scott making his way down the stairs. He winced as he heard Scott kick a box he had misjudged the place of once he reached the bottom. There was another muted expletive that escaped Scott, but this time, John chose to spare his brother the indignity of being chastised by his younger brother for the second time in one night.

Scott shuffled his way to the back of the basement where many of their camping and light farm equipment like shovels and rakes were left. Scott bent to run his hands over the shelves, searching for the metal of the lantern they had seen their father use in weather like this before. Scott continued to mutter as John moved over to their father’s workbench. He knew that once they found the lantern, Scott would need matches to light it, and he knew that their father kept the matches in his workbench, safely away from the youngest of their brothers.

The soft clinking of tools being moved and adjusted accompanied the soft scrape of objects on the shelves as both boys searched for their respective objects. John was the first to succeed. His hand fell across the rough strip on the back of an old matchbook and he pulled it out of the drawer he had found it in. He flipped it opened and fumbled with one of the matches in the dark, striking it. The flame burst to life and both he and Scott were momentarily blinded as their vision adjusted once more, both their faces illuminated by the flickering match.

“Aha!” Scott grabbed the lantern that was now so easy to see and moved it so John could light it before the match burned down and burned John’s fingers. The circle of light illuminated more of the room as the flame took to the wick in the lantern and John extinguished the match. Scott closed the door of the lantern to keep the flame safe from the storm. “Right…so…we go out, get the generator on, and then you need to go to bed.”

“And you don’t?”

“It’s a school night for you,” Scott said, putting an arm over John’s shoulders, who rolled his eyes but couldn’t argue with that. Scott had long since left school. John grudgingly acquiesced before they both headed up to the main floor again, pulling on their rain gear before opening the door.

The roar of the rain was louder than John had expected without the house muffling the sound. John took his jacket and wrapped it tighter around himself. Scott set out into the rain, not wanting to be out a second longer than he had to be. The storm hadn’t even caused him to hesitate a second. John ran after him, or rather the circle of light cast by the lantern. They both hurried over to the old barn which currently housed several pieces of equipment their father had been tinkering with, some small scale prototypes and the like.

As they entered the barn, once more safe from the torrential rain, John ran his fingers over the metal of one of the prototypes. He’d only seen them a few times, their father preferring to work on them where the boys weren’t underfoot and asking questions every thirty seconds. The metal had a thin layer of dust and dirt and his fingers left trails on the surface, but he didn’t mind it too much. They were beautiful, his father’s ideas made tangible in a way.

Scott moved over to the generator and began to tinker with it. Most often this task was left to their father, but Scott was an adult and had his own life experiences and soon he had the generator up and running again with a triumphant sound. John smiled as one of the safety lights flickered back on and illuminated the barn, bathing the space inside with a yellowish glow.

“Nice going, Scott!” John said. Scott grinned.

“Thanks. Now…let’s get you to bed,” he said, looking over John with concern, his eyes falling on the dark circles that had started to develop over the last couple of weeks as John stayed up late to take practice tests for standardized testing. John rolled his eyes.

“You know, you don’t fully have to play dad’s part tonight,” John said, earning an affectionate hair ruffle from Scott. He tried to duck away, but didn’t try too hard, hugging Scott’s side. Maybe John’s uneasiness was just the strength of the storm. “We could just go in and get ourselves some hot cocoa instead.” Scott smiled down at him.

“Hot cocoa and some warm blankets sound like just the thing for a night like tonight,” Scott said and he led the way back into the house, rushing back through the rain with his arm over John’s shoulder, too distracted with the desire to not get wet to notice the set of footprints the safety lights had illuminated that led into the barn, but not out of it.

[such-a-random-rambler]

Happy MiniBang @jbarkerstargazer

I enjoyed scrolling though your blog for art, and a number caught my eye. I settled on this one because I don't think I've seen anything like it before, and loved the feeling of two people sitting side by side sharing a wonder. I couldn't find a reference to who this person was, so kept it vague and I hope it fits who you were drawing.

found in this post, for reference

The 2060’s are a decade of frontiers being brought to the forefront. Whether it’s in the depth of space, the deepness of the ocean, or the most remote mountain peaks, what was once a rare sight can be displayed on every holoprojector in every home in the world. Technological progress has pushed back the edge of exploration so it can be enjoyed by everyone, even if only the bravest – and luckiest – souls are actually leaving their footprints behind. 

There are, however, pockets of experiences left that are known by the very few. Some are not pleasant. Most are life-threatening. One of them John Tracy, and only John Tracy, sees on every trip to and from home: a unique commute even with the bustling traffic into orbit these days. 

Up is John’s favourite direction. Not just because he’s escaping the heavy shackles of unforgiving gravity or because he’s returning to the quiet he needs to focus and save lives. It’s this view.  

On most journey’s John spends the forty five or so minutes it takes for the space elevator to travel from island to station checking over system reports and pre-loading the holograms he needs into the control centre. Sometimes he puts that off, and lets himself enjoy the slow change from atmosphere to vacuum. The colours fade as pressure changes, and the curve of the planet emerges. There’s a precious few minutes when the Earth and the stars are in balance, before the glistening grains of sand painted on inky blackness creep across the whole sky.  

None of the other travelers into space have the time to see the gradual melting from Earth to Heavens, not at the breakneck pace they are catapulted though the atmosphere. This view is one reserved for John, and those special enough he invites to share it.  

“Do you want to see?” he asks her, one lazy afternoon, when the airwaves had been quiet and the pool had been inviting. Lunch in the sunshine had been followed by an afternoon of reading and napping. Now the breeze picks up as the sun begins to set, bringing with it the scent of cool sea and earth to accompany their conversation on the merits of unorthodox space travel. 

She’d been to Five before of course, but by the usual – quick, rocket-shaped – route. 

Her immediate smile is excited at the prospect and touched by the invitation to this most private view.  

He hustles her down to the elevator dock before anyone can interfere, leading her by the hand so fast she has to do a few little jogging steps to keep up. Intense focus on a goal tends to make him forget his long legs in a way she’s come to find endearing.  

The secondary seat is slightly more comfortable than most airplane seats -  even if it spends most of it’s life folded into the wall panels – though nothing in comparison to the bespoke fit of John’s chair, almost as form fitting as his suit. That primary seat shifts aside slightly to make room so they can sit together, the main viewing port on the opposite wall.  

Safety checks completed and harnesses secured, Five lifts them into the evening sky.  

Ever been so focused that no other part of the world can intrude into your bubble? That’s how it is for them this first time: the earth rising below, the atmosphere whispering goodbye and the sky wrapping them in stars. Just the two of them, hand in hand, and a glimpse of infinity. 

That’s how it is the first time, and many times after that.  

[idontknowreallywhy]

I am having THE BEST day!

Several hours in my happy place reading and viewing all the Tag Minibang stuff…

Thank you so so so so much everybody, you’re all mind-blowingly talented and I’m both in awe and giddy at the knowledge that we get the benefit of it all 🥰

And thank you @tagminibang for all the work in setting it up.

[tagminibang]

Minibang instructions!

The weekend is almost here! When you're ready, you can post a link to what inspired your work, tag your creator that you were paired with and post your work!

It doesn't have to be in that order!

Use the tags #tagminibang #tagminibang2023 or some variation of that so I can find your posts and reblog them!

I can't wait to see what everyone has made!

[tagminibang]

Thunderfam! Quick poll!

[tagminibang]

TAG Mini Bang assignments are out!

Remember, your artist/writer doesn't know you're making them something :D Keep it a secret from them until the weekend of August 5th!

♡~♡~♡~♡

Important info for writers:

Due to lower number of artists compared to writers, multiple writers have the same artist.

The artists were assigned to some of the writers using a random number generator. Unfortunately, not every writer will have an artist, but hopefully, we'll still have some amazing creations from the group!

Happy creating everyone!!!!

[tagminibang]

I plan to send out Mini Bang assignments on Saturday May 20th

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

Let me know by Saturday if you would like to participate!

[tagminibang]

Getting the sign-ups organized!

If any Artists would like to join in, we could use you!

🤗